rary, there was quite a gallon short,
which I supposed must have been lost while rolling it along the wreck's
deck the previous night. That missing gallon or so we should have to
make up by slightly curtailing each person's allowance, unless indeed we
were blessed with a shower or two of rain during our voyage.

Having quickly disposed of my rather meagre breakfast, I got out the
tool chest, and, using the plank which I had retrieved, made a cleat for
the reception of a rowlock. This I firmly fixed to the boat's transom,
so that, when necessary, we could use one of the oars to steer with; or
for sculling purposes. The job occupied me for the best part of an
hour; and when it was finished I suggested that, since we were doing no
good where we were, it might be worth our while to take a cruise about
the lagoon and see whether we could find any flotsam from the wreck that
would be of any value to us. This we did, but we found nothing except a
few planks, half a dozen of which we hauled in and laid on the boat's
deck to dry, upon the off-chance of their eventually proving useful to
us.

Then we made our way to the spot where we thought the wreck had sunk,
and eventually found her submerged within about forty fathoms of the
inner edge of the reef, showing that she must have gone down almost
immediately after being washed clear. There was about a fathom and a
half of water over her poop, and as we gazed down upon the craft,
clearly visible through the crystal waters of the lagoon, poor Mrs
Vansittart shed a few pardonable tears over the grave of the ship of
which she had been so proud, and which she had loved so well.

We were agreeably surprised to find that our so-called boat, bulky and
clumsy as she looked to the eye, proved quite easy to propel with a pair
of oars handled by Julius and myself--except, indeed, when we tried to
force her to windward. Then she became decidedly heavy and sluggish in
her movements, which showed us that it would be hopeless to dream of
shaping a course other than to leeward, or at best with the wind abeam.
The wind was, at the moment, blowing briskly from the southward, which
was a fair wind for the Caroline group, in one of which--if we could
only manage to hit the right one--we might hope to meet with hospitality
at least, if not the actual means to return to civilisation. After some
discussion, therefore, we determined, as the wind seemed inclined to
moderate a little, to risk a sta